“They live in the sewers. You shouldn’t worry about, really. Most of the time the Weevils keep to themselves.”
Noah Bennet raised his left eyebrow half an inch, and didn’t take a drink of the beer Jack had poured for him.
“I’m sure they do. I just had to make sure they weren’t under my jurisdiction,” he said evenly.
Jack paused, nonplussed. “You deal with Weevils often?”
“Not Weevils. Other things people don’t believe in. What the public isn’t ready to know,” Noah explained, and watched Jack’s reaction.
Jack smiled widely, and Noah had a sudden memory of Claude grinning at him in a bar much like this during off-duty hours. He shifted surreptitiously, feeling the straps of his shoulder holster under his suit jacket. Jack, he assumed, was also armed. He could be carrying anything, up to and including a sword in that coat of his.
“This is when everything changes,” Jack said, nodding. He ducked his head a bit to get a better look at Noah’s face, and unselfconsciously shifted closer. Their knees were almost touching under the bar top, and when Jack put his own beer back down, the back of his hand touched Noah’s in a deliberately provocative gesture.
“You get a tip from the future?” Noah asked, keeping his voice very even. There were several patrons that were casting longing glances at Jack and shooting daggers at him for being the chosen one. The idea… was actually not an unpleasant one. Noah had been on the receiving end of seduction attempts for reasons both selfish and self-serving, to extract information or just to lure him into a dark alley for nefarious purposes. Jack’s very lightly veiled unspoken question was as natural as breathing. No ulterior motives here.
“I’m from the future,” Jack said pointedly, shifting so close he was practically off his seat. Another six inches and he’d be in Noah’s lap. And Noah had a sneaking suspicion Jack could keep answering every question posed to him while continuing his games.
“Who put you in charge of rounding up Weevils?” Noah asked. He put one hand on Jack’s wrist and twisted it away slightly. Jack just went with the pull, cocking his hip right into Noah’s side. Exasperated, Noah clamped down harder and shot him a warning glance.
“Who put you in charge of rounding up telepaths, firestarters, telekinetics, and teleporters?” Jack asked. His smile never faltered.
“Touché,” Noah allowed. Each knew more about the other’s operation than they were willing to admit. “There’s some indication of a major event coming up soon. Northeast coast.”
“Sounds about right,” Jack agreed. “Lots of activity been happening in that area. Could be worth a look. Maybe we’ll run into each other.”
Noah let go of Jack’s wrist as he turned away. A newcomer was standing in the doorway, impeccable in a dark suit, his face so determinedly neutral that he had to be covering a scowl.
“I believe your Weevils are migrating south. You should check Charlotte before they have an incident,” Noah added blandly, interrupting Jack’s interest in the dark-haired suit.
Jack turned back to him in surprise, and Noah noted the dull gleam of Jack’s gun as his coat flared dramatically.
“We’ll do that.” For a half a second, Noah was almost positive Jack was just going to leave, snapping his coat out behind him in a scene worthy of an action film. Instead he planted a brief but shamelessly hearty kiss right on Noah’s lips, with not the slightest hesitation for the crowd around them. Then he left, snapping his coat out behind him.
Noah watched him leave, “accidentally” spilled the beer Jack had bought him, and ordered two scotches on the rocks. Claude appeared on the vacated stool between one blink and the next, stealing one glass.
“You’re trying to make me jealous.”
Noah raised his right eyebrow an entire inch.
“Yeah, they’re going, and the Haitian’ll meet them in Charlotte. You figured they tried to drug you?”
“He expected me to know he tried.” Noah cracked a very private smile. “It probably goes against Jack’s grain to not be remembered.”
So Jack and Noah meet in a bar...
Noah Bennet raised his left eyebrow half an inch, and didn’t take a drink of the beer Jack had poured for him.
“I’m sure they do. I just had to make sure they weren’t under my jurisdiction,” he said evenly.
Jack paused, nonplussed. “You deal with Weevils often?”
“Not Weevils. Other things people don’t believe in. What the public isn’t ready to know,” Noah explained, and watched Jack’s reaction.
Jack smiled widely, and Noah had a sudden memory of Claude grinning at him in a bar much like this during off-duty hours. He shifted surreptitiously, feeling the straps of his shoulder holster under his suit jacket. Jack, he assumed, was also armed. He could be carrying anything, up to and including a sword in that coat of his.
“This is when everything changes,” Jack said, nodding. He ducked his head a bit to get a better look at Noah’s face, and unselfconsciously shifted closer. Their knees were almost touching under the bar top, and when Jack put his own beer back down, the back of his hand touched Noah’s in a deliberately provocative gesture.
“You get a tip from the future?” Noah asked, keeping his voice very even. There were several patrons that were casting longing glances at Jack and shooting daggers at him for being the chosen one. The idea… was actually not an unpleasant one. Noah had been on the receiving end of seduction attempts for reasons both selfish and self-serving, to extract information or just to lure him into a dark alley for nefarious purposes. Jack’s very lightly veiled unspoken question was as natural as breathing. No ulterior motives here.
“I’m from the future,” Jack said pointedly, shifting so close he was practically off his seat. Another six inches and he’d be in Noah’s lap. And Noah had a sneaking suspicion Jack could keep answering every question posed to him while continuing his games.
“Who put you in charge of rounding up Weevils?” Noah asked. He put one hand on Jack’s wrist and twisted it away slightly. Jack just went with the pull, cocking his hip right into Noah’s side. Exasperated, Noah clamped down harder and shot him a warning glance.
“Who put you in charge of rounding up telepaths, firestarters, telekinetics, and teleporters?” Jack asked. His smile never faltered.
“Touché,” Noah allowed. Each knew more about the other’s operation than they were willing to admit. “There’s some indication of a major event coming up soon. Northeast coast.”
“Sounds about right,” Jack agreed. “Lots of activity been happening in that area. Could be worth a look. Maybe we’ll run into each other.”
Noah let go of Jack’s wrist as he turned away. A newcomer was standing in the doorway, impeccable in a dark suit, his face so determinedly neutral that he had to be covering a scowl.
“I believe your Weevils are migrating south. You should check Charlotte before they have an incident,” Noah added blandly, interrupting Jack’s interest in the dark-haired suit.
Jack turned back to him in surprise, and Noah noted the dull gleam of Jack’s gun as his coat flared dramatically.
“We’ll do that.” For a half a second, Noah was almost positive Jack was just going to leave, snapping his coat out behind him in a scene worthy of an action film. Instead he planted a brief but shamelessly hearty kiss right on Noah’s lips, with not the slightest hesitation for the crowd around them. Then he left, snapping his coat out behind him.
Noah watched him leave, “accidentally” spilled the beer Jack had bought him, and ordered two scotches on the rocks. Claude appeared on the vacated stool between one blink and the next, stealing one glass.
“You’re trying to make me jealous.”
Noah raised his right eyebrow an entire inch.
“Yeah, they’re going, and the Haitian’ll meet them in Charlotte. You figured they tried to drug you?”
“He expected me to know he tried.” Noah cracked a very private smile. “It probably goes against Jack’s grain to not be remembered.”